Mutual Healing
by sakurablossomhime
Summary: A tale of when the group's backbone, the healer, finally is honest about her feeling about needing support in return that just so happens to be to the most broken of them yet no judgement is given, only calm.


They were a band of misfits. From their short, blond leader that was often times sidetracked, to the tall, dark, and guarded gunman now in their ranks.

And then there was one that regardless of how she felt, stood apart from the rest.

She was the last of her race they'd said, her natural healing a gift she had inherited she'd been told a time ago, as she too had been experimented on for it.

While the yellow haired leader seemed drawn to her healing qualities more and more masked as another emotion, the tall, dark haired male seemed…wistful then skittish, saddened then pained, and maybe even terrified in her presence, this all encompassed in the others body language and eyes only. No one had saw his full face for the high collar cape he wore about himself.

This particular night he was broadcasting his unease more. She said goodnight to the blonde haired one, causing a frown to appear and a smile grow on the other dark hair woman as she took her place.

She walked towards the perpetually alone male. He had always chosen to camp some ways away from the group, tent and all, if one was applicable like tonight. He'd seem worse after his transformations in battle to demons he housed in his body. Now shame swam in those red irises too occasionally.

She gently sat down right by him, leaving little to no room between them, body heat exchanging through clothing.

She said nothing but continued to just be close. His brows slightly furrowed in confusion but he didn't voice it; he let it be.

He felt conflicted. He wanted to rise, gather his belongings and move again, this time father away so that such a innocence could not keep finding him. Did she really not know what she was doing to him just by being around him? The demons howled constantly to _corrupt_ that innocence. Her disposition at times reminded him so much of _her._ That in itself was a subject better not broached lest his poor heart begin to bleed again in guilt. But for the life of him though he wanted to flee, he didn't move from her side. He and she sat in quiet peace overlooking the campground.

Several evenings came and went with the same outcome with her seeking him out despite his own insecurities. She began speaking to him, at him, not really expecting a response from him. She found his quiet and unobtrusive neediness calming. It was there nonetheless, but unlike the young blond warrior that led them, he wasn't fractured and trying to maintain that he wasn't. In time he did grant one and two word answers to questions that would have been treated normally as rhetorical. Now he spoke to her when spoken to. He had a wonderful, barely used deep timbre that obviously came from a mouth. Still she'd not saw what lie beneath that heavy crimson material and wary carmine eyes decorated in dark long lashes.

A new night had came.

It was balmy, forcing him to forgo his cape for the slight comfort from the heat despite his overall discomfort without it. She sought him out yet again as she always did after leaving the broken warrior to the capable barmaid's hands.

Upon her reaching his area and seeing him, she froze. He took it as a sign that he was somehow disfigured, he would not put it past Hojo to do so. He quickly went to shy away from her questing eyes, forgetting he had no protection and opted to turn away from her closing his eyes and gritting his teeth, his ling hair having to make due. When had he even began to really care what any of them thought? When had she gotten so close to him to even make him fear her rejection?

All while these thoughts brewed, the young woman, Aerith, snuck closer and before she could control herself to be mindful of the older man's standoffish behavior, she was on her knees before him with her small hands on his smooth, pale as the moon cheeks.

Focusing on the warmth on each cheek, rubies pinned her in place.

Aerith was in total awe. He was beautiful. He was like a living contrast. Raven-black hair, milk white skin, those beautiful red eyes set in a aristocratic face. He was so gorgeous there were almost feminine undertones to his looks.

Her staring at him _and touching him_ were making him uneasy as his perfect brows drew down and his hands, metal and human came to grasp her frail wrist to dislodge her.

She saw those emotions again cycling quickly in his eyes: fear, guilt, and the constant confusion of her and her attention she gave willingly to him.

Without warning she was moving and she was melding their lips together.

He started and shuttered greatly in shock but didn't push her away as his common sense screamed at him to do as the cacophony of demons in his mind welled up in volume. Despite it all, his lips instinctively moved against her own, his mind thinking of another and before he could go too far he gently pushed her away from him with his hands on her shoulders-when had they moved down to her waist anyway?

She was concerned to his ending things abruptly, not really certain why she'd taken such liberties in the first place. That hadn't been her first kiss but it was much more poignant. That honor had gone to Zachary Fair, her first lost love.

Vincent Valentine was a lot of things: Thrust into a new world after sleeping 30 years in a coffin to be forgotten, waking and knowing you failed your lover and her child- your child that was left to be raised by the man tinkered with all of them like soulless dolls, adding heinous beast to him, making him less of a man. Above all else now he needed a woman, the last of her kind, craved her innate powers of healing mind, body, and spirit. No. She was so young. Sephiroth was older than her by at least eight years. Besides they were on a serious mission. He had no time for making doe eyes at her, giving her false hope. Why then did he respond like he did? Oh he could say it was a Lucrecia that drove his advances on Aerith,that they were similar, but he knew that deep in his heart he was in much more trouble than it seemed.

Vincent rose up and with one glance down to Aerith and retreated further into the woods, leaving Aerith to feel guilty staring after him thinking she'd went too far with aloof man. Aerith cradled her face in her hands as she still crouched upon her knees and simply cried for the confusion of the situation and the obvious absence of the other.

Vincent stomped further in the forest going past a stream thinking to rinse his face of the built up flush he knew was there and the humidity of the night. Bending towards the surface, his visage comes to view. His face is no more aged than the day he was locked away and with the exception of paler skin and the glow of Mako in his eyes, he still looks to be the same twenty-seven-year-old… from 30 years ago. All this is painted out clearly in the light of the full moon and his impeccable night vision that was thrust upon him and experimentation done on him.

He simply fell back on his rear near the bank of the stream. No wonder she was enamored so. Still, he was no twenty-seven year old. He was close to fifty-seven years old.

 _Too young, TOO YOUNG_ his mind raged at how these…feelings had cropped up of her and it was solely his fault.

He did what he came to do and headed back to camp.

The following days passed quickly enough in other campsites or towns at inns.

Vincent was noticeably absent as soon as a battle was won and camping or inn arrangements were made, often the first to make for bed and at the farthest corner or farthest room yet again.

Aerith felt his cold shoulder acutely.

She interacted with everyone the same as if it didn't hurt her, that it didn't mean a thing. After all, she had a more pressing mission that Planet tasked her and as a Cetra she would have to play her part, even at her life's expense. So she tried to move past Vincent by enjoying everyday to fullest with Tifa and Yuffie as adopted sisters, laugh at Cid and Barret when they talked like the old men they were. And even when Cloud, her beautiful broken Cloud began to fall for her, she sealed her heart away. It wasn't that Cloud wasn't appealing, it was just she'd done something foolish like fall for someone who didn't feel the same way and what's more there wasn't…time to cultivate anything anymore. Plus she knew Tifa's feelings for him.

She'd thought she was okay with it but as the end goal loomed ever closer and she woke from her umpteenth vivid dream of hungry kisses, steady, fevered rhythms, and scratches down opulence skin… enough was enough.

Vincent faired no better. The demons raged and railed against him for turning her away, for his stubbornness. Vincent, too, tired of waking excited in a cold bed or tent alone. He had long ago conceded he missed her talking to him, even if he said very little.

He swung long legs over the side of the bed in his sleeping pants as that was all he wore on his person besides his permanent gauntlet.

Before she even knocked he'd heard her shuffling to his door and answered it, ferrying her indoors.

She took one long look at him from head to toe and shuddered.

He could simply smell her in the air like a flowery perfume and it was wonderful as his nostrils flared taking it in.

"We need to talk" she said.

He inclined his head in agreement and held his hand out towards the only viable furniture in the room: the bed.

He knew that was dangerous to put her there but it could not be helped.

"I…I am sorry. I am not certain what came over me. One moment I was simply admiring you, the next…"

Aerith unconsciously touched her lips, no doubt reliving the passionate kiss that started everything.

Vincent's eyes were all for her finger tracing her lips as he, too, thought about the tenderness and sweetness he was imbued with from the same action. He was hardening and this was going to get out of hand if this was not handled appropriately.

"There is nothing to apologize for. I…was overwhelmed and it had been a very long time since I was touched without intention to hurt."

Vincent knew he wasn't the talkative type but there was more and it had to be said. He shifted some, struggling to continue.

Aerith spoke up.

"I'm sure there are similarities between us, Lucrecia and I.I can see your wistful glances. I…I don't mind so much. You probably thought you were disfigured, damaged as I stared at you. Did…you not know you had not aged?" she asked of him.

He was struck mute that she'd known what was on his mind.

"I…I did not know I had not aged a day since 27. It was disconcerting as you can imagine. Yes. Your similarities to Lucrecia is what initially had me shy away until I saw you were your own person. This ever gnawing need I have though…" he said trailing off again, a confused look on his face until he realized he had said to much.

Aerith's heart beat triple time.

Please let her have something before there was nothing to be had anymore.

"Vincent…tell me. If your need is me, for my company, my healing, my… _affections_ , just tell me. I _need it!_ I need to hear it! I know I have the healing capacity to help and be needed by others but you have been the only one who has not blatantly forced your internalized woes upon me. Yes, I can feel it and yes I calm you when we are near because I _want_ to. Its not because you think you are three people in one, have extreme anger issues, are a kleptomaniac, have severe separation issues, or midlife crisis. You allowed me to be just me around you and that's why I love you!" Aerith blurted out, forest green eyes going wide, and her burying her face in her hands.

She couldn't take his rejection and she knew going this route was extremely selfish but she couldn't let him go. In a way, they honestly were both damaged and she was to be thrust onto life's cruel stage because of the same man that had hurt Vincent as well.

Vincent sat very still until he smelled the saline in the air and by the first muffled cry, he was holding her tightly on the bed.

He knew he wanted her, Goddess knew, though he fought it.

Did he love her? He was quite fond of her. His emotions were just no good after all he'd been through. He was afraid he couldn't answer her as her rocked her and laid her down by him still holding her to his chest.

"Those are my feelings, Vincent. I do not expect you to reciprocate them in return. Please though, give me something I will associate with my love for you" she said with watery eyes and small smile.

Vincent stared at her face and with his claw, gently released her chestnut brown hair from its customary braid and it fanned below her as he shifted her under him.

He began kissing along her eyes and nose gently, moving to nip at her ear lobe and along her neck.

Once he felt her sufficiently peppered with kisses, he then kissed her lips, something he'd been aching since the original sin happened.

It was instant euphoria all over again as Vincent shifted further into place, human hand now questing under her sleeping shirt to caress unbound full sized, well shaped breast. A quick jerk had the front of the shirt opened, buttons going everywhere, leaving Aerith in pair white bowed underwear, as lips connected and disconnected and now tongues had came to play.

In a sudden move, Vincent bent to capture a light pink nipple into his mouth causing Aerith to arch into his ministrations and grab at his head to secure him there. He chuckled his deep laugh out while still attached to one nipple and toying with the other precariously with his claw.

All these feelings were so amazing for Aerith. She could feel Vincent's resounding interest as well through his sleeping attire and her hands moved to start trying to remove his pants.

"Are you certain?" he asked as he temporarily lifted up pulling the pants down to his knees himself and kicking them the rest of the way off.

He could smell her virginity and wanted to make certain she was ready. Aerith's eyes were all for his body and lower region.

Vincent Valentine always looked so thin but unclothed he was absolutely a sight. There were marks from fights past but none dissuade from the solid abdominal muscles and toned, long arms covered in snow white skin with beautiful black hair seeming to drip over his shoulder like a dark ink. Then there was his genitals.

"I am certain but are you certain that will fit me? Gaia what a virginal question" Aerith said covering her eyes though she'd began blushing.

"It will. It just requires the right attention and preparation" he said as he lifted her bottom with one hand and slipped her underwear away with the other, smirking the whole time.

Aerith squeaked slightly that now, with the exception of her gaped open night shirt, she was completely bare to him.

Vincent took the opportunity to take in Aerith's form.

She was a precious thing. Her peaches and cream skin was slightly flushed and her beautiful hair spread below her, green eyes sparkling with trust and her love.

Vincent spread out across her, wrapping his arms around her in embrace, burying his face in her breast. She felt like life and the youth she truly held, not the pseudo youth he would forever apparently have.

Aerith stroked his hair and with laugh in her voice.

" Vincent you are trying to brood while we are naked. Weren't you going to help me make a wonderful memories?" she said to Vincent's upturned face laying on her bare stomach.

Vincent lifted up shaking his head, sliding along her equally naked body and soundly kissed her on the lips, causing her to moan out in want.

Vincent began with light kisses along her breast and nipples, travelling down her flat stomach to kiss each side of flared hip. He then made it to his ultimate destination of a thatch of small auburn curls along the pubis.

Aerith began to squirm again, nervousness and naïveté eating at her.

Before she could question what he was doing, her thighs were pushed up and to the sides. Once that was done, just as she'd moved to her elbows, a questing finger slid between her flowery folds and within, stealing her breath and strength.

Vincent hummed in approval at the snugness he knew would be there. He soon met her resistance and pulled back for now.

She made a slight whimper of disappointment. If that one feeling got that kind of response, what he did to her to prepare her really…well Gaia knew what sounds she'd make.

Resolving his plan, Vincent slipped that wonderful, torturous finger back inside as now his thumb rested directly on a bundle of nerves.

He slid so that he could thrust within but watch every gasp, moan, shudder, deepening of flush take place.

One became two and that thumb continued working Aerith over, her breath coming out in fast pants. A third finger filled her to bursting and she cried out as each thrust caused the maddening coil in her lower body to tighten.

The way they were locked together in sight together was so meaningful. Him watching her with those eyes glowing all the more with lust and passion for her and her alone and breathing heavy finally broke the feeling within her and she reached her first bodily crisis, eyes wide, crying out her release, and vaguely seeing Vincent's supreme satisfaction.

Vincent absolutely needed to touch her body, be within. While she was still coming down from her orgasm, he has positioned himself.

"I have tried to make the way easier but with such things, there is suffering first" he said sympathetically.

Aerith understood but wanted, no needed him, his calm. No demands on her soul.

Vincent nodded once and after prodding the entry, with one thrust he entered her.

Oh how it was painful but she would not run from it nor push him away because of it. Her natural healing had eased it anyway and a tentative nod the head and ultimately the opening of her eyes with unshed tears had him moving within her.

He grabbed her hand with his good hand and clasped it as he moved within her, kissing her, treasuring her body.

Again he locked eyes with her as his speed had increased. Some innate skill had her pushing back against his invasion so that a rhythm was formed. His nostrils flared, he bared his teeth in growls at the wholly and virginal feeling of the one below him.

He felt the transformation happening, meant to draw away and she drew him in, holding him as tightly as possible, even as those bat like wings burst through his back and his teeth had elongated. He looked liked a fallen angel and what he was doing to her body was absolutely sinful and she did not care. Chaos was closer to the surface. They were bedding the one that smelled of lilies.

Aerith seeing him like that must have been highly erotic as she tightened on him causing Vincent to throw his head back and moan long and deep. Aerith took all of him in: the long, dark hair, the pale skin, the wings, and the now fangs and was almost there. Vincent shot forward and at the juncture of her neck and shoulder, bit her.

Aerith came with a wail dragging Vincent over the precipice as well as his wings opened up to their full length before he caught his weight on his elbows, Chaos taking his features with him.

This was only the first of such "memories" amassed.

They continued their routine of talking to each other along their mission, only now sexual encounters were included no matter if Vincent still camped further away or had the farthest room; now it served for noise control.

Vincent still couldn't answer Aerith's feelings though he realized from their first night he was less scattered, less depressed, and able to delegate control of the other mindless demons to the primary demon Chaos who proved to be intelligent which made his mind less…well, chaotic.

They continued on with their dalliance with no care, well Vincent Valentine did, thinking he had time to skirt around with his answer to her though she never pressed it, always comfortable in what he did give.

He quickly knew his answer when his insanity-driven son murdered her right before his very eyes.

He'd loved her. Goddess be damned, he had.

He'd loved her intelligence , her smile, her own take on her faith, her courage under fire though she was definitely no SOLIDER, her warm embrace, her kisses, the calm she gave, her tears she could shed, and the rock she was to the group as a whole.

Above all else he would miss "I love you Vincent" she'd say so carefree, that he would never hear again simply because of their fates. He never aged, therefore, would never die and would join the lifestream…never to join her.

He all at once hated his miserable, fucked up life.

He was certain she'd known this was her path. Why, then, cause him this excruciating pain? No matter, he could not blame her. He also found that with her coming into his life, Lucrecia had basically became more or less a distant memory, not the burden she once was. It was just another way she'd healed him in the long run he supposed.

When the last battle was done and everyone was just happy to be alive, he miserable. It hurt so damned bad yet he lived on.

His son…put down like a rabid animal.

His lovely and lively lover…dead by his _son's_ hands.

No one was the wiser to his pain besides maybe Nanaki based on his own animal instincts…and Cloud.

Aerith at the end had been polite but had completely withdrawn from him, leaving him to Tifa. Cloud may have been damaged but was no fool.

As everyone attempted to go back to regular life, they saw him struggle. Each at some time asked him to come and stay with them.

He kept refusing until finally Tifa put her foot down. She was a scary yet formidable woman. He relented.

Two years saw them dispatching Sephiroth again in a different form. His bitterness still hadn't dissipate about his cowardice with Aerith yet this dispatching of Sephiroth hurt…less. She'd helped heal from the lifestream. The Geostigma had been no match for her Holy Gospel. Cloud Strife officially was completely cured in and out that day too, and not just from the illness.

If Vincent could have touched the waters, _bathed_ in it and not _burn_ because of his demons, he'd floated upon its surface in the old church alone, just to be near her.

A year later he had lost his demons, including Chaos, after the Deepground and Omega incident.

The world was safe but Vincent was restless. He actually had liked the snarky demon in the end. He was truly alone again.

His friends meant well but they'd moved on: marriages, children, and settling down. He didn't belong anymore though they said he did.

He needed Aerith, he truly did and there was no way of her coming to him.

He decided to leave everything behind and in remembrance of her, to live in the capital of the Forgotten City.

He told his comrades that he would maintain contact and agreed to keep his cellphone as Cid dropped him as close as he could. Aerith would want it that way.

Once he made it back he came up to the odd conch shell home he intended to make his. He saw movement though and had Death Penalty ready. There was to be no one here but him and the ghost past.

Once he made his way into the entry, he heard humming…that was very familiar in sound.

It made no sense. He hoped without hope nonetheless and with his Turk skills he crept up the stairs into the room.

He froze at the sight.

There, on the bed folding what looked to be clothing from somewhere, was his loving Aerith.

She felt those piercing eyes more than she had heard him.

"How?" was all his brain could manage as he drug over to her now standing form and he embraced her with all the love be wanted to say…give all these years.

"You came for me" she whispered.

Seeing her alive again broke down all his stoicism as his quickly submerse her in his arms, feeling her solid and warm presence.

She could feel the faint trembles going through his frame but didn't call him out on them and simply clung back as he rested his head atop hers.

Epilogue

They had talked at length of how she'd came back. Apparently Chaos had favor with the Goddess Minerva. He was happy and saddened to leave Vincent's side. He wanted the human male as happy as he would be given his long life so he set out for some request for Vincent's chivalrous deeds, Aerith's return an lifespan to match but one. The other, if they would do as man and woman willed, would come along as well.

Vincent allowed Aerith to tell the others she was alive again. Celebration was done for her revival and while they were gathered, Vincent bravely asked for her hand in marriage among their friends and their new enemies turned allies the Turks and Rufus Shinra.

Aerith was finally able to see the fruits of her labor. Barret had tamed and was a excellent father to Marlene, Cid finally married Sher a and was truly happier for it. Yuffie had strangely enough hooked Tseng's attention…and affection and had turned into a young, level headed lady no longer hell bent on stealing. Nanaki found a mate and was happy to not be the last of his kind. And last but not least, her broken chocobo warrior wasn't broke anymore. He was sure of himself and he had Tifa's love as his wife and a adopted son named Denzel.

Her healing had paid off…but so had her own admission of weakness too.

So on Vincent's 62nd birthday, because Aerith wanted it associated with something as beautiful as soul, they wed.

Vincent decided that Mideel may make a better home for him and his bride and he quickly ushered them there via the Shera and procured a home for them. As soon as the house was furnished, Vincent couldn't hold back all the missed love, sadness, and need he had for Aerith.

As he had her in their four poster bed, it was just as intense as the very first time they'd done it, clashing of lips, grabbing of hair, and all sorts of sounds spilling from the pair. The stimulus had Aerith shaking from head to toe, her crying out as he reached impossibly deep inside her, his answering groan on his lips. She absolutely was wailing out her release. As he stiffened above her coming in shivering waves as it fully crashed upon him.

Time revealed that she was expecting a child for them. Vincent was very pleased, surprised at this outcome.

What the time came to give birth, the were gifted with a silver haired, green eyed son. Both knew who it was. Aerith's senses probed and prodded her child but found him to be just as normal as any other babe.

He fussed and rooted about and opened his eyes. No baby blues were present but those lifestream colored irises remained. He had a normal, circular pupil. A quick but hesitant question to Planet confirmed his identity but that he was completely normal child, albeit a bit stronger and some unique features like the hair color for the inert genes on his reincarnation.

They could and would do this. She would forgive a old fear and pain and he would be able to be a father he'd wanted to always be since he'd found out on waking. They would rear him together.

He was made with _their_ love and he would know it every second.

They would hold off on telling the others a couple of weeks until they were situated as a couple as a family. He would now be known as Seraph Grimoire Valentine.

After all, Sephiroth had always looked like a angel.

Fin.


End file.
